


Snyde, Smith, and the 1994 Quidditch World Cup

by CrazedChemist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Death Eaters, Established Relationship, F/M, Quidditch World Cup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:35:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27151189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazedChemist/pseuds/CrazedChemist
Summary: Merula Snyde and my original character, James Smith, attend together the 1994 Quidditch World Cup, in time to see the Ireland-Peru semi-final and the Bulgaria-Ireland final; as well as reuniting with some old acquaintances, and facing some enemies.The MC is the same as in my series, "The (mis)adventures of one James Smith", but depending on how that story progresses this might be a different timeline altogether, but still as close to canon events in HP as I could.
Relationships: Merula Snyde/Original Character(s), Merula Snyde/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 7





	1. Ireland vs Peru

A thick fog covered a deserted moor, where two strangely dressed men were standing around, seemingly waiting. One of them, wearing a poncho over his shoulders and a kilt underneath, was holding a large parchment scroll and a quill. His companion was wearing a tweed suit paired with clogs, and held a large golden pocket watch, looking at it from time to time. Next to them, a large, mostly empty crate sat on the ground, the scarce objects inside being best described as junk. Both of the men looked extremely annoyed and bored, their faces barely registering any other emotions when a loud sound, like the crack of a whip, hailed the sudden arrival of two other figures in front of them, coming out of thin air, holding hands. ‘Name?’ grumbled the kilt-wearing man, reading something from the parchment.  
‘Snyde,’ said one of the two who had just appeared, a young woman with violet eyes and messy brown hair that reached her neck, with a brighter, almost orange patch of hair above her right eye. In contrast to the two strangely dressed men, she was dressed quite smartly, in dark hiking attire. Both she and her companion were carrying heavy-looking camping backpacks on their shoulders.  
‘Snyde, Snyde…’ mumbled the man, reading over the list in the parchment. ‘Right, there you are.’ He pointed with his arm at the fog wall, saying ‘Four or five hundred yards that way, in the second campsite. Ask for Mr Payne.’  
‘Thank you,’ said Snyde’s companion, a boy of her same age; and the pair started walking in the direction they had been given without another word. In contrast to Snyde, he had short, straight straw-like hair and brown eyes; and faint stubble covered his cheeks. Like her, he wore ordinary clothes, though not as dark; instead his jacket was green. As the two young adults walked off, arm in arm, they could hear the older men complain in shushed voices about their jobs; having been there waiting for people to arrive for hours and hours, and having to wait for even more hours.  
‘Not very talkative, were they?’ noted the young man rather cheerfully, once he was sure the other two men were out of earshot.  
‘All the better,’ said the girl in the same half-joking tone. She glanced back at where the other two where standing, but the fog blocked her vision. ‘Can’t really blame them, though.’  
‘No,’ agreed the boy, as they strode through the grassy ground. A stone cottage came into view, with rows and rows of tents a few dozen yards behind a gate, and he said ‘I guess this is the first campsite. The second one should be near.’

Indeed, the second campsite was not far from the first one, and another stone cottage stood in front of it, with another iron gate and tents beyond it. At the right of the front door, a man sat on a plastic chair, watching over the tents. Guessing that was the “Mr Payne” they were searching for, the boy approached him. ‘Good morning... Mr Payne?’  
‘Good morning,’ said the sitting man, nodding, and taking a clipboard from his lap. ‘Your name, please?’  
‘We should have a space under the name “Snyde”. We made the reservation about a week ago,’ said the young man, almost in a questioning tone.  
‘Indeed,’ said Mr Payne, reading the list in his clipboard, and crossing out a name with a pen. ‘It’s one hundred and fifty yards that way, at the row nearest to the fences.’  
‘Perfect. We’ll pay now, if you don’t mind,’ said the boy, taking out a small pouch and rummaging inside to find the banknotes.  
‘Of course,’ said Mr Payne, taking a small box from under his chair, waiting to be handed the money. The traveller handed him some bills, and the man in the chair frowned for a second, noticing that he had been handed a few more than was necessary. Shrugging it off as a simple slip on the young man’s part, he handed him a few coins and two of the bills he’d just been given, saying ‘…And here’s your change.’  
‘Brilliant,’ said the young man, glancing at the rows of tents. There had to be hundreds of tents, if he had to guess. Nodding at the camp manager, he said ‘See you around.’  
‘Have a nice stay.’

As the two young adults walked towards their designated parcel, they saw the vast majority of the tents had had strange details added to them. The less extravagant ones only had chimneys, or weather vanes, added. Others were outright preposterous or extravagant, completely ostentatious. ‘Wonder how the Ministry’s handling all these,’ said the boy, eyeing what could be best described as a small castle made of linen.  
‘There must be Obliviators everywhere,’ Snyde said with a scoff, before stopping in front of an empty spot with a sign that said “Snide” in crude, painted letters. Scrunching her face, she felt a great urge to go back to the camp manager and swear and curse at him for butchering her family name like that.  
Her companion noticed her state of mind and brought her back to reality by softly saying ‘Come on, Merula. Let’s set the tent.’  
Merula nodded, taking deep breaths to calm herself, before placing down her backpack on the ground. They took out a mass of canvas and sticks, placing it on the centre of their grassy space. Looking around, she whispered ‘Don’t reckon there are any Muggles nearby. All these look wizard to me. And the mist is quite thick; I don’t think anyone would see us…’  
With a smirk, the young man nodded. ‘I was thinking the same…’ He produced a thin wand from a pocket, tapping the wrapped tent. ‘ _Erecto,_ ’ he whispered, and the tent began to put itself together on its own, moved by invisible hands, and resting smoothly on the grass after a few seconds of building.  
Satisfied, Merula nodded at the result. ‘Nice work, Jamie. Let’s get the bags in.’

The two of them bowed low to enter the tent, standing upright the moment they stepped inside, with plenty of room above their heads now to do so. The inside of the tent was a large wooden room, fitted with a double bed in a corner, a small kitchen in another corner, a dining table with two chairs around it, and a couch with a coffee table in front of it in the centre. A small bookshelf sat against one of the walls, half filled with worn books and a small radio. A door on that same wall led to a small bathroom. Leisurely, they sat the bags at the foot of the bed, getting rid of their thicker clothing. As a precaution, they placed a protective ward over the tent, a charm that should repel most intruders, in case there was a person foolish enough to enter their tent without permission. ‘That’s all set,’ said Jamie. ‘There’s still time before the match, fancy a cuppa?’  
‘Sure,’ Merula said, splaying herself on the couch, playing with a small, spherical, fluffy white creature. While tossing the Puffskein up and down, she chatted with Jamie about the two teams that would play that day in the Quidditch World Cup semi-final, Ireland and Peru. Or rather, she spoke while the young man rummaged through a few cabinets near the stove, more interested in the tea he was making than in the teams that would play that day, or any day, in the match. From time to time he would engage in the conversation, more to give her a reason to keep talking than to actually make any comment, content to see her so excited. When the tea was ready, they each took a cup, exiting the tent and sitting on the grass at the entrance to watch the other campers around. Those nearest were clearly all wizards like themselves, though some hid it much better than others. Some people wore mismatched clothing like the two Ministry officials that had directed them to the camp; or even worse, some completely disregarded the secrecy, wearing the robes of their favourite team. The tents were also quite a spectacle. Not only were some extremely extravagant in shape, many were also sporting their team’s colours or flags. A few near them were covered in real shamrocks, Ireland banners and posters. Through the fog, a bit further away, they could see the tents of the supporters of Peru, similarly covered in hanging banners and posters. Jamie saw a giant poster on a crimson tent showing the face of what he guessed was the star player of their favourite team. With a large curved nose and thick black eyebrows, the man in the picture was sallow and thin, and seemed extremely annoyed, for the only movement recorded in the magical picture was blinking and frowning.  
Pointing at it with his head, he asked Merula ‘Who’s that?’  
‘Oh, that’s Krum,’ she said, sipping from her cup. ‘Star Seeker from Bulgaria. He’s quite good from what I’ve heard. We’ll see him in the final; Bulgaria’s already passed their semi-final…’  
‘Doesn’t look too happy, does he?’  
‘Doesn’t really need to. All the figures and posters of him’ll sell regardless of his grumpiness.’  
‘Lucky him.’ Jamie glanced again at the shamrock-covered tents, and commented with a grin ‘The Irish take this a wee bit too far, don’t they?’  
‘Watch your tone, Smith. You’re talking to the Most Powerful Fan of Ireland,’ said Merula, earning a chuckle from Jamie.  
‘Oh, I wouldn’t want to anger her, of course,’ replied Jamie playfully. ‘Not very subtle, though. Shamrocks? Too much on the nose, no?’  
‘That’s Quidditch for you. Remember the matches back at Hogwarts? All the hard-core fans like Haywood painted their faces and went to even friendlies and practice matches.’  
‘I don’t think I remember any Quidditch matches from Hogwarts,’ admitted Jamie.  
‘I don’t think you ever went to any,’ noted Merula. ‘I remember at least one time we snuck into the other common rooms during a particularly long match.’  
Jamie didn’t say anything, instead trying to remember those years of his life. Indeed, the number of Quidditch matches he had gone to in his schooling years could probably be counted with the fingers in one hand, and he’d still have a few fingers left. ‘Don’t know,’ he finally said. ‘I think I did see Charlie or Andre once or twice. Or both. Might’ve been the same match.’

They continued talking through the rest of the evening, having a quick snack before the Ireland-Peru semi-final begun. When it was getting dark, they began to make their way towards the forest that held the stadium, continuing their conversation along the way, hand in hand. Merchandising vendors offered all sorts of souvenirs and clothes emblazoned with the colours of any team offered their products left and right, pushing trolleys or trays filled with the goods. Jamie didn’t buy anything, though he did ask Merula about the strange binoculars one vendor was selling. ‘Those are omnioculars,’ said Merula, rummaging in her pockets. ‘I already have a couple for us, here,’ she said, handing Jamie one of the items, though more used, from her jacket. ‘Made my mum buy these when I was a kid.’  
‘What do they do?’ Jamie asked, looking through the brass omnioculars around them, and playing with the dials near the lenses.  
‘They’re handy to slow down the action of a match, and replay something. This dial also gives a play-by-play breakdown.’  
‘Wouldn’t that distract from the actual match, though? As it happens?’  
‘Brooms fly so fast nowadays that these things are practically mandatory,’ Merula commented. ‘They’re all going to be flying in Firebolts, and those are almost impossible to follow.’  
They kept talking, until the loud sound of a gong announced the start of the match. They were now entering the forest, along with all the other spectators, following a path lit with colourful magical lamps that had lit up with the gong. It took a twenty-minute stroll through the path until they finally arrived at the gigantic stadium, surrounded by the joyous excitement of the fans, which was quite contagious. A great, golden wall was all they could see of the stadium from the outside, spanning as far as they could see (which wasn’t too much, between the constant mist and the darkness of the night). ‘How big are these things?’ Jamie asked in awe.  
‘Huge,’ Merula said, as they approached one of the entrances to the stadium, filled with other witches and wizards. ‘Heard this one was supposed to hold a hundred thousand people.’  
Jamie let out an impressed whistle, as they showed their tickets to the Ministry official at the entrance, and climbed up the stadium to take their seats. They were seated with the majority of the crowd, though Merula had managed to get them well-centred, so their view of the oval field was quite good. An excited, booming voice introduced the teams, among the cries of the fans waving their flags, and the match began.

As it turned out, the match came to be quite exciting. Ireland absolutely pummelled Peru in a relatively quick but impressive match, making them ascend to the final against Bulgaria. The green and white robed players celebrated as they flew around the stadium between the excited cheers of the Ireland supporters and the jeers and boos of the defeated. Slowly, the crowd began to disperse, returning to their camps and tents in the case of the ones who had chosen to camp. Merula and Jamie returned to their own tent, arm in arm, discussing the shorter-than-expected match.


	2. The Quidditch World Cup Final

The next day, many tents that had sported the colours of Peru had disappeared, probably because the owners wouldn’t stay for the final match of the competition. That day, no games were scheduled, for everything had to be prepared for the big final. More and more tents with the colours of Ireland and Bulgaria appeared, gathering in two distinct groups, almost like different neighbourhoods of tents. The campsite was practically divided between those who supported Ireland, covering their tents in green and white and shamrocks, and those who supported Bulgaria, covering their tents in red, green and white and posters of Krum. Many other tents had no clear affiliation, like the previous day.  
By the end of the day, when they were having a light dinner in their tent, Merula was bragging as usual about her favourite team in the next match. ‘Of course Ireland will win. They’ve got me supporting them.’  
‘Is that so…?’ Jamie asked, smirking. He didn’t particularly like neither teams, but he did like to challenge her from time to time. ‘Three Galleons that Bulgaria gets the Snitch tomorrow.’  
Merula raised an eyebrow, considering the bet. ‘Five. And the loser gets jinxed to grow antlers for twelve hours.’

On the morning of the final match, near Jamie and Merula’s tent, a father and his son, in his late teens, were setting up their own tent. The son caught a glimpse of Jamie, and apparently recognised him, for he approached them while they were having breakfast sitting on the grass. ‘James? James Smith?’  
Jamie looked up from his partner to the boy, a bit younger than himself. Jamie squinted his eyes to block out the sun, barely recognising the tall figure of a handsome seventeen year old with dark hair. ‘Cedric Diggory?’  
Cedric nodded, excited to see his old ex-classmate. ‘Blimey, good to see you. And Merula too.’  
Merula nodded at him in acknowledgment. Jamie pointed at the grass in front of them, offering pleasantly ‘Sit with us and have some tea. Have you had breakfast?’  
‘Oh, I don’t want to be a nuisance,’ Cedric said, smiling. ‘I’ve already eaten, anyways.’  
‘Did you just arrive?’ Jamie asked.  
‘Yes, Dad and I came for the final,’ Cedric explained, looking at his father, who was approaching them.  
His father walked up to them, smiling from ear to ear. ‘Friend of yours, Ced?’  
‘This is James Smith, Dad. And this is Merula Snyde,’ Cedric introduced them, while the two nodded at the newcomer.   
‘Oh, Ced’s told me a lot about you, indeed! Amos Diggory,’ said Mr Diggory, vigorously shaking Jamie’s hand before shaking Merula’s, though Jamie noticed that neither Merula nor Amos Diggory looked very pleased in meeting. Not that he was surprised; Merula wasn’t exactly a people person, and it wasn’t impossible that Amos knew about her parents. ‘Nasty business with the Cursed Vaults…’ Amos said gravely, shaking his head, after the introductions. ‘You must be very relieved to have all that behind you now.’  
‘In a way, yes,’ Jamie said, before offering again ‘Would you care for some tea? Cedric’s too polite to accept it.’  
‘I’m sure he is,’ Amos said with a chuckle, patting his son on the back with a proud look. ‘If it’s no bother, it’d be nice to sit with a friendly face.’  
The Diggory duo sat around with them, while Jamie went to make more tea, serving them a cup each. ‘How long have you been here?’ asked Cedric, taking his cup from Jamie’s hand.  
‘Two days now,’ said Merula. ‘We came just in time to see the Ireland-Peru match.’  
‘Oh, how nice,’ said Amos. ‘I heard it was an interesting game.’  
Jamie nodded. ‘Short, too. Peru was absolutely crushed. What about you? Excited for the final?’  
‘Excited? That’s putting it mildly!’ Amos said, and Cedric nodded. ‘We woke up at two in the morning for this game! No regrets, of course…’  
‘So soon?’ asked Jamie.  
‘We had to get ready for the Portkey,’ explained Amos. ‘We came here with the Weasleys, see…’  
‘Oh, the Weasleys are here?’ Jamie asked, perking up. The Weasleys had been good friends of his ever since his second year at Hogwarts.  
‘They’re staying at the other campsite,’ Cedric said.  
‘All of them?’ Merula asked, curious.  
‘Arthur and his children, and a couple of friends of his son Ronald,’ Amos specified. ‘Molly stayed at home.’  
‘That’s a lot of people,’ Jamie said.  
‘That’s a lot of seats to buy,’ Merula noted, raising an eyebrow.  
‘Ludo Bagman gifted the seats to Arthur, from what he told me,’ Amos explained casually. ‘Quite good seats, too. First class and all. They’ll probably meet the Ministers up there.’  
‘Who’s Ludo Bagman?’ asked Jamie.  
‘Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports,’ Amos explained.  
‘He was also a Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps,’ Cedric added.  
‘And he’s the one that commentated the game,’ Merula told Jamie. Standing up, she excused herself and went into the tent, where Jamie estimated she wouldn’t come out of until both Diggorys were gone.  
Getting a bit tired of talking only about Quidditch, Jamie tried to casually steer the conversation elsewhere. ‘And Cedric, how’s Hogwarts treating you?’  
‘It’s fine,’ Cedric said, looking down at his cup.  
‘Fine? Fine?’ Amos said, beaming up. ‘He’s doing wonderfully! Oh, you should have seen his O.W.L. results… All his teachers say he’s one of their most promising students, and he’s the best Seeker in the school!’  
‘I wouldn’t say “the best”…’ Cedric tried to say, but his father dismissed him, waving a hand.  
‘Nonsense. Who else could beat Harry Potter but my son? That Potter boy’s good from what I’ve heard, but Cedric beat him fair and square on their last game together.’  
‘He fell from his broom…’ Cedric insisted. ‘Dementors arrived… It wasn’t his…’  
‘This school year,’ Amos went on. ‘He’ll take the Apparition test, and I’m sure he’ll pass without much issue…’  
‘Dad, I think we have taken advantage of Jamie’s hospitality long enough,’ Cedric said, a bit louder than before. ‘Besides, we should get ready for lunch.’  
Mr Diggory glanced at his fob watch, nodding. ‘Merlin’s beard, you’re right!’ They stood up, and Jamie stood up as well, secretly glad to see them leaving (at least, of seeing Amos Diggory leave). ‘Well, James,’ Mr Diggory said, shaking Jamie’s hand. ‘I hope I’ll see you again.’  
‘Likewise,’ said Jamie, before turning to Cedric. ‘See you around, Cedric.’  
‘Nice to see you, Jamie,’ said Cedric with a smile, before leaving behind his father back to his tent. Sighing, Jamie watched as they left, before turning around and entering his tent.

‘Finally,’ said Merula once Jamie entered the tent. She was sitting at the couch, reading a the day’s copy of _The Daily Prophet_ , with her Puffskein on her lap. ‘I thought you’d die out there of old age.’  
Jamie laughed, noting ‘Amos Diggory certainly is proud of his son.’  
‘No kidding,’ Merula said, before putting on a mocking impression of Mr Diggory. ‘And did you know that Ced defeated a dozen Death Eaters when he was seven? And did you know he trained a Chimaera at ten? And that he has the cure for spattergroit? And…’ Jamie couldn’t hear much more from how much he was laughing, holding his sides and sitting down on the couch next to her. She shifted in her seat, leaning against him with a smug look, and he wrapped his arm around her waist, while they continued talking. The rest of the day passed fairly quickly, without any more visits from the Diggorys; and they didn’t see any Weasleys, as they were in the other campsite. At nightfall, with a loud gong, like the previous time, the game was announced to begin soon, and they made their way towards the gigantic, golden stadium. They took similar seats to those of the previous match, while advertisements shone in golden letters over the stadium.

A booming voice spoke over the cheers of the spectators. ‘Ladies and gentlemen...welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!’ There was a resounding chorus of claps, cheers, and hymns. The golden letters for advertisements became a score keeper. Bagman continued ‘And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce...the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!’  
A hundred or so young women entered the field, but they were no ordinary humans. In fact, they were not human at all. With skin as pale as the moon and white-gold hair, the veela began to dance to a beautiful music for their audience. This proved to be quite hypnotic for half the audience, mesmerising most men with their seductive dance. Jamie felt the urge to impress them somehow, but a sharp pain distracted him from doing something stupid. Merula had grabbed him by the arm, digging her nails and giving him a warning look. For a moment Jamie wanted to protest, but then the music stopped, and all he could feel was gratefulness for being stopped short of making himself a fool by jumping into the stadium or something like that. The rest of the male audience didn’t seem too happy about the veela stopping their dance, for even the Irish fans had been hypnotised and almost turned into Bulgarian fans for a few scandalous moments. Ludo Bagman’s voice bellowed again over the ruckus, saying ‘And now, kindly put your wands in the air...for the Irish National Team Mascots!’  
A rush of green and gold fell towards the stadium, and for a second Jamie was reminded of the effects of the Star Shower Spell he had developed with his classmate Badeea Ali years back. The “comet”, however, did not crash, instead circling the stadium, splitting into two and creating a rainbow between the two smaller balls. The colourful arch disappeared, and the two comets collided, forming a brilliant emerald shamrock over the stadium. Almost like a snowfall, golden coins fell from the flying shamrock, and the audience bent down on their seats to pick the coins from the ground. The show came to an end, however, and the giant figure disappeared. Dozens and dozens of Leprechauns, which had been forming the figure, flew down to the field opposite of the veela, waiting for the match to begin.   
Ludo Bagman, once the Leprechauns were all seated, continued. ‘And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome – the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you… Dimitrov! Ivanova! Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! And… Krum!’ he began listing the scarlet zooming figures that came into view, among the clapping of the excited fans, prolonging the “and” for dramatic effect.  
‘And now, please greet – the Irish National Quidditch Team! Presenting – Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! And… Lynch!’ cried Bagman with the same enthusiasm as before, while green forms flew in at the same speed. ‘And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!’ Bagman introduced the fifteenth figure that flew in, between the two teams, carrying a large crate with the balls. As he opened it and released the Snitch and Bludgers, and threw up the Quaffle with a loud noise from his whistle, Bagman cried ‘They're OFF! And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov…!’  
While the game went on, Jamie took the chance to use the borrowed omnioculars to search through the higher grandstands for any sign of the orange Weasley hair. In the highest point of the stadium, between the golden hoops of one end he found what he was looking for. The balding head of Arthur Weasley couldn’t hide the flaming orange hair, but even more telling were his seven orange-haired children around him. Merula, who had another pair of omnioculars, was closely following the match, that by the sound of it was extremely intense. Ireland scored goal after goal, and Bulgaria only managed to score one goal during the whole match. After a nasty incident between the national mascots, and several goals later, Ireland was winning by 160 points. Jamie, returning his attention to the match at hand, focused only on the two Seekers, for his bet only considered who caught the Snitch. At one point, both Seekers dived down towards the ground, Lynch chasing the Snitch with Krum at his tail. Lynch crashed onto the field for a second time, the veela attacking him at once, while Krum grabbed the Snitch, ending the match in a victory for the Irish, 170 to 160 points. The Irish fans immediately cried in joy, and among them Merula shouted curses and swears at Krum, badmouthing him for catching the Snitch when it was obviously a lost cause. Even though she supported Ireland, she hated it more to lose a bet. Jamie, on his part, was laughing so hard he couldn’t stand up, seeing Merula’s reaction to the match through teary eyes. Among the cheers of the spectators, the Irish team received the World Cup, raising it high in celebration.


	3. The Death Eaters

They were returning to their tent, among the cries of celebration of the fans of Ireland, though Merula did not seem as happy as the sports fans around her. Jamie, on the other hand, was beaming with excitement. They finally reached their tent, and neither spoke for a moment. Annoyed at the silence, Merula snapped with a pout ‘What are you waiting for, then?’  
‘The five Galleons,’ Jamie said, holding back a laugh.  
Merula scowled, throwing five golden coins his way that fell clanking on the floor. ‘Just jinx me and be done with this.’  
‘But why…’ said Jamie teasingly, approaching her until they were inches apart, and caressing the orange spot on her hair. ‘…would I ruin such a cute little head with antlers?’  
Merula smirked, leaning forward to kiss him. A loud noise came from outside the tent, and when they broke apart Jamie noted with a chuckle ‘The Irish sure do know how to celebrate, don’t they?’  
‘They’re not the only ones,’ Merula said playfully.  
‘Oh, yeah?’ asked Jamie, holding her hand and waist, slow dancing to a music that wasn’t there. ‘Any bright ideas?’  
‘A couple,’ Merula said, her eyes gleaming. ‘But first…’ She stopped the dancing, tapping the small radio on the bookshelf with her wand. ‘A change of music,’ she said. A few dials turned until The Weird Sisters were heard singing their latest hit.  
‘Good choice,’ praised Jamie, walking over to a cabinet and searching inside. ‘I have something to add to that,’ he said, taking out a bottle of Firewhisky. ‘The Hog’s Head Inn’s finest.’  
‘Seriously?’ snorted Merula. ‘Couldn’t pick a better pub?’  
Jamie shrugged sheepishly, still smirking, while handing her a glass.

They celebrated the victory of Ireland through the night, while the cheers and yells outside continued. But late in the night, the yells changed somehow, and Jamie felt like something was wrong. They were not cheers; they were screams, screams of fear. Staggering slightly to the outside of the tent, dizzy from the Firewhisky, he peered outside, and saw flames in the distance. All around him, he saw people leaving their tents to watch what he was watching, and some figures ran across the campsite towards the ruckus, wands drawn. From what he overheard, there was some sort of riot at the other campsite, property of some Mr Roberts. Merula came outside after him, wondering what the commotion was as well. Jamie took out his wand, and looked back at Merula. ‘I’m going to see what it is.’  
Merula merely nodded, taking out her own wand, silently agreeing to accompany him. Blocking the tent with a charm, they strode forward, towards the edge of their camp and the next one. They passed past the stone cottage of Mr Payne, who was being stunned and Obliviated by a Ministry official. Arriving at the other stone cottage that belonged to the other Muggle camp owner, they saw it had just been raided, the door wide open and on its hinges.

Pressing forward, along with Ministry officials and other volunteers, Jamie and Merula entered the campsite, many of its tents ablaze. People screamed and ran all over the place, pushing each other in an attempt to escape and run to the forest. A mob clad in dark robes and hoods was the source of the commotion, apparently. But what was floating above them was far more horrifying than the burning tents. Four figures, what looked like a couple of adults with two kids, were being tortured in front of everyone. The hooded figures that moved the victims controlled them like puppets, making them adopt embarrassing postures.

Without realising, Jamie and Merula had distanced themselves too much from the Ministry workers, and delved too close to the dark crowd. They became aware of this fact with horror when they heard someone behind them shout a curse at them. Merula yanked Jamie down to the ground, and they staggered up and got cover behind the remains of a charred tent while hexes and curses missed them. By the light of the flaming tents and the spells, they saw the skull-like masks the Dark witches and wizards were wearing. Merula became livid, trembling, her gaze fixed on the attackers, as she muttered ‘Can’t be… Death Eaters…’  
Jamie squeezed her hand gently, saying ‘You can go back if you want …’  
Merula shook her head, her look of horror turning into a twisted grimace. ‘No, I’m not leaving.’  
Near the band of Death Eaters, that had enlarged, everything was scorched and barren. Jets of light flew from the dark crowd against the few fighters that got too close. Another two Death Eaters saw them, firing curses at them and approaching, distancing themselves from the main group. Jamie and Merula fired curses of their own back at them.  
‘ _Petrificus Totalus!_ ’ Jamie shouted, shooting over his cover. Despite his inebriated state, he was still quite a good shot, as the spell hit the Death Eater on the right, who yelped in shock before freezing and falling to the ground like a plank. The second one shot a Blasting Curse at them, but it flew past their heads and landed on an already charred tent. A flash from Merula’s wand made the Death Eater that had surprised them shriek in pain, holding his chest and dropping his wand. While he was painfully transforming into a sea urchin, the third Death Eater yelled, calling the others to help.

Overwhelmed, Jamie and Merula had no other choice than to run towards the tree line everyone else was escaping to, blocking oncoming spells and striking back from time to time. They reached the forest and hid behind a thick tree, the other side of the trunk bursting into flames from a curse from the Death Eaters. Jamie heard a cry from somewhere near them, a voice fairly familiar. ‘Bill, they’re not here!’  
Looking at his right, Jamie saw a short and muscled boy of his own age, with flaming long red hair. ‘Charlie!’  
Charlie Weasley, much more tanned and weathered than the last time they’d seen each other, turned towards him, narrowing his eyes. Jamie and Merula made their way towards him, blocking a few spells when they were out of cover. ‘Crikey, Jamie! Merula! What are you doing here?’  
‘Oh, we fancied a stroll through a Death Eater infested forest.’  
‘Nice to see you too, Merula.’  
‘Where are your siblings?’ Jamie asked.  
‘Percy’s with some Ministry officials. Bill’s close, we were searching for the younger ones, but we haven’t found them yet… _Confringo!_ ’  
His curse hurdled towards a Death Eater, who barely had time to get to cover, retreating and returning to the mob. Charlie called out again to Bill. Bill’s response came from deep in the forest. ‘Coming, Charlie!’  
The three of them saw four figures cautiously approaching them from deeper in the forest. Bill, now wearing his long hair in a ponytail and sporting a fang earring, was leading three of his younger siblings, two twin boys and a girl. They all turned to their brother when they approached, looking extremely worried. ‘Where are Ron and the others?’ asked Charlie.  
‘Not here,’ said one of the twins, who Jamie guessed was Fred. Neither he nor his brother had his usual mischievous smirk, instead looking as worried as everyone else. His eyes wandered from Charlie to Jamie and Merula, muttering ‘Who… No way!’  
‘Nice to see you again, Jamie,’ said his twin brother, and Bill nodded.  
‘And Merula, too,’ said Bill. ‘You haven’t seen our brother Ron by any chance?’  
Jamie and Merula shook their heads. ‘We haven’t seen any Weasleys before you,’ said Jamie. ‘We came from the other campsite to see what the commotion was, and before we realised it we were in the middle of the fight,’ he explained. The Weasley siblings all looked at each other, sharing the same thoughts of worry.

Screams interrupted their little break, as the Death Eaters seemed to have dispersed a bit, and a few were close enough to the forest to notice them. ‘Get behind cover!’ Bill ordered his underage siblings, quickly raising a Shield Charm to block an incoming hex. ‘Charlie, watch over them!’ he said, glancing at the burning tents.  
‘Why? What are you going to do?’ Charlie asked, blocking another hex.  
‘I’m going to search around the tents,’ replied Bill.  
‘Then I’ll go with you,’ Jamie said. ‘It’s too dangerous to go alone.’  
Bill nodded, and Merula gave out a scoff. ‘Then I’ll go too, I guess… You wouldn’t survive one minute without me.’  
Jamie gave her a grateful smile, and he, Bill and Merula marched towards the tents, taking cover from time to time behind a tent or a barrel, hexing whatever Death Eaters they saw. They were getting close enough to again see clearly the four Muggles that were being publicly tortured and humiliated, but nor Bill’s brother nor his friends were anywhere to be seen.  
A rather large Death Eater witch spotted the trio, pointing them out to her accomplices. ‘Here! Look! _Crucio!_ ’  
Her scarlet curse missed Jamie by about a foot, as he raised his wand at her in retaliation. ‘ _Tentaclifors!_ ’  
The Dark witch, who until then had been snickering with the thought of torturing them, gave out a terrified squeal as the jet of light hit her wand arm, and her fingers suddenly started turning into purple tentacles, and then her arm started changing too. A lumpy masked man at her side shoved her aside roughly before firing a curse at Bill, who engaged in a duel with the Death Eater. Jamie and Merula were distracted by brilliant flashes of light coming at them from their sides, and each of them took on a different opponent from the crowd of Death Eaters. Most of the dark group that saw them just sneered and jeered at them, but there were a few who tried to curse them, those engaged in the fight. Jamie had just managed to turn his opponent into a yellow duck when Bill cried in pain, holding his right arm, which was bleeding profusely. Slashing his wand at the Death Eater that was about to finish off Bill, Jamie conjured a flock of birds that charged against the Death Eaters, pecking at them furiously.

Suddenly, a bright green light illuminated moor and forest, a giant sparkling skull rising up in the air. A snake of the same colour was coming out of its mouth, and the whole thing was like a fireworks display in a green cloud. They gasped at the sight of the Dark Mark, and they weren’t the only ones: the Death Eaters had stopped their attack, wearily watching the Mark. Almost as suddenly as it had come, the Death Eaters began dispersing, running in all directions and disappearing. The four Muggles wobbled in the air, a warning that they were about to be dropped, as the Death Eaters that held them up were fleeing. Jamie noticed just in time, pointing at them with his wand and crying ‘ _Arresto Momentum!_ ’  
Their free fall was slowed and stopped a few feet off the ground. The Death Eaters around them Disapparated, before giving them (or any Ministry worker) time to capture them. The Muggles sauntered downwards to the ground, surrounded by a group of Ministry officials, who would immediately begin working on modifying their memories.  
‘They’re not here…’ Bill said, defeated, and still looking around for his brother. His arm had a deep gash, and he had tried to close the wound with little success with a spell, so he was resorting to keeping pressure on it.  
‘Go and get Charlie, Bill,’ Jamie said reasonably. ‘There should be no more danger here. You can return to your tent…’ He bit his lip, tentatively saying ‘…if it’s still here…’  
Bill didn’t immediately reply, instead looking into the distance. ‘You’re right,’ he finally said. ‘Thank you, thank you both.’  
‘Good luck, Bill,’ said Jamie and Merula, while Bill turned to retrace his steps and get his siblings.  
Breathing heavily, Jamie looked around the destroyed camp. They had no reason to stay now, as they were in no immediate danger. ‘So… Shall we get back?’ he casually asked Merula, offering his arm, as if the whole ordeal had just been some interesting event.  
Merula gave a scoff, but took his arm regardless. ‘Please. I’m about to fall asleep.’


End file.
